e as well as myself, and has far
more strength, courage, and military genius, might be allowed to serve
your Royal Highness; in the place of----"

"Enough, enough, sir!" cried out the justly irritated son of the
monarch. "What? I offer you a favour, and you hand it over to your
brother? Wait, sir, till I offer you another!" And with this the Prince
turned his back upon Mr. Warrington, just as abruptly as he turned it on
the French a few months afterwards.

"Oh, George! oh, George! Here's a pretty kettle of fish!" groaned
General Lambert, as he and his young friend walked home together.

CHAPTER LXI. In which the Prince marches up the Hill and down again

We understand the respectful indignation of all loyal Britons when they
come to read of Mr. George Warrington's conduct towards a gallant
and gracious Prince, the beloved son of the best of monarchs, and the
Captain-General of the British army. What an inestimable favour has not
the young man slighted! What a chance of promotion had he not thrown
away! Will Esmond, whose language was always rich in blasphemies,
employed his very strongest curses in speaking of his cousin's
behaviour, and expressed his delight that the confounded young Mohock
was cutting his own throat. Cousin Castlewood said that a savage
gentleman had a right to scalp himself if he liked; or perhaps, he added
charitably, our cousin Mr. Warrington heard enough of the war-whoop
in Braddock's affair, and has no more stomach for fighting. Mr. Will
rejoiced that the younger brother had gone to the deuce, and he rejoiced
to think that the elder was following him. The first time he met the
fellow, Will said, he should take care to let Mr. George know what he
thought of him.

"If you intend to insult George, at least you had best take care that
his brother Harry is out of hearing!" cried Lady Maria--on which we may
fancy more curses uttered by Mr. Will, with regard to his twin kinsfolk.

"Ta, ta, ta!" says my lord. "No more of this squabbling! We can't be all
warriors in the family!"

"I never heard your lordship laid claim to be one!" says Maria.

"Never, my dear; quite the contrary! Will is our champion, and one is
quite enough in the house. So I dare say with the two Mohocks;--George
is the student, and Harry is the fighting man. When you intended
to quarrel, Will, what a pity it was you had not George, instead of
t'other, to your hand!"

"Your lordship's hand is famous--at piquet," says W